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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/30055269">For Venus</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/sablescales/pseuds/Greyscales'>Greyscales (sablescales)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (TV 2012)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe, Blood, Over the Mountain and Through New York rewrite</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 16:33:44</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,668</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/30055269</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/sablescales/pseuds/Greyscales</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Two newcomers wander into town. One is a very precious little girl, the other a very protective older sister. Neither are quite prepared for a head-on collision with the Kraang, or with the turtles that hunt the strange aliens.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Ready, Steady, ...</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Two voices in the dark are talking quietly. It breaks up the monotony of their trek into the city. It has been a long day full of busses and walking. One voice is that of a young child of maybe 5. The other is a teen girl. The teen squeezes one of the young child’s gloved hands tightly with her left hand and keeps her right tensed by her waist. As they pass under a streetlamp, their profiles can be seen.</p><p>Something’s off. The youngest is wearing large clothing with a hood that is up and gloves. They obscure most of her skin from head to toe. The elder shows more skin, but obviously has a large brown coat hanging open over her shoulders, which is odd since it’s a warm day. Their profiles are odd around their backs, almost like they’re hiding bags underneath all their clothing. Suspicious…</p><p>“Sissy, ‘m tired,” the youngest suddenly complains loudly.</p><p>The eldest doesn’t stop, but her right hand moves into her coat. A black feather falls to the ground and lays unnoticed on the asphalt.</p><p>“I know, Mei-mei.”</p><p>After a beat, the eldest continues, “We’re almost to the motel. Patience, we’ve talked about that before, right?”</p><p>“’M tired!” The youngest stops walking, causing the eldest to stop a step ahead.</p><p>The eldest glances around cautiously, and then crouches in front of the small, grumpy girl. She brings their joined hands in front of her and removes the glove to lay a gentle kiss on her forest green hand.</p><p>“Mei. I need you to understand. Do you remember when mother and father told you to be quiet, to not attract attention?” She looks Mei straight in her ocean blues, denoting all seriousness, “Do you remember them saying why?”</p><p>“Why?”</p><p>“Being loud attracts attention, and attention brings bad things. Remember what they would always say? ‘<em>It’s safest in the shadow of the mountain.’</em> The motel is our mountain, we can secure that place.”</p><p>“But I- I don’t wanna walk.”</p><p>The eldest grips something tight in the depths of her coat. Like clockwork, heavy footsteps sound behind her. She lets go of Mei and stands. Her hands brush back her large coat, revealing two somethings hanging at her waist.</p><p>Her little sister’s unsure voice filters through her focused mind, “Sis?”</p><p>She doesn’t look back as she replies tersely, “Mei-mei. Stay behind me.”</p><p>Stomp. Stomp. Stomp. The elder sister’s eyes narrow at the particular heaviness in the stranger’s footsteps as they approach.</p><p>“We will take the small turtle into custody,” comes a surprisingly monotone voice. “Release the turtle to us.”</p><p>In response, the eldest unholsters her gun and levels it at his face with zero tolerance and fires.</p><p>The stranger approaching them doesn’t flinch as the bullet slides through the flesh of their cheek and off into a waste disposal bin. They don’t bleed. Confused and worried by this, but not willing to give ground with her sister behind her, the eldest lowers her voice and growls.</p><p>“That was a warning. Stay away or the next bullet won’t miss.”</p><p>Mei whimpers behind her, but doesn’t cling to her. Her parents taught her that.</p><p>“Release the turtle to us.”</p><p>More footsteps are heard approaching, and the elder sister realizes that things are not going to be as easy as she hoped. With a grimace, she grabs her brown coat with her left hand and whips her coat off. A black and feathery mass at her back unravels like flower petals unfurling in the spring. Equally dark, long hair splays at her back.</p><p>“Well then. I think we’ll have to agree to disagree,” she says.</p><p>With a quick gun shot into the blood-less automaton’s face—which is clear by the sparks that are let off as the bullet embeds itself—the eldest holsters her weapon and grabs her sister. With wings beating a powerful rhythm, they take to the air of New York City just as similarly faced suits join their ‘injured’ comrade.</p><p>On the distant rooftops, whooping can be heard approaching the scene left behind.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Eroding Mountains</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Trigger warning for those who've been assaulted before, there's an almost-instance in here.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>This neighbourhood isn’t the safest, but it’s cheap and less patrolled… So, not the place to raise her sister, but a great place to lie low if they can avoid the rampant gang violence and shoot-outs.</p><p>Shit. She really needs a better place than this, she thinks to herself as she stalks the street down to an abandoned building. Her face is probably fixed in a pissed off expression, though she doesn’t really feel upset. It’s more for appearance.</p><p>“Hey. You know, someone your age can’t open-carry.”</p><p>The scary expression melts slightly at the familiar voice. Her wings shift slightly, and she quickly fixes the oversized sweater she has draped loosely over her shoulders, lest he see.</p><p>She eyes him carefully, asking, “Ban? BanMeStan?”</p><p>“Come in, Birdbrain,” he replies simply, standing aside the door and inviting her in.</p><p>Half expecting a trap, she walks in alert. Her eyes scan the area. It’s surprisingly warm-coloured and cosy. The room’s devoid of anyone else right now, but it definitely looks lived in. She doesn’t relax exactly, but she focuses back on the young man who invited her in. He looks to be around 18 years, kinda scruffy but lacking any sort of air hinting of anything dangerous. Exactly the kind of people certain clans, including her own, look for.</p><p>It only makes her more wary. Close contact or no, some of the greatest evils are the ones that look and talk like normal people.</p><p>“Sorry to be <em>blunt</em>, but do you have it?” She asks, to which he laughs.</p><p>He walks to a table near what looks to be an eating area. There’s a mini-fridge next to a short counter-top with a light dusting of an unknown substance. Opening the cupboard under the countertop, he pulls out a box full of ammo and places it gingerly on the table between them.</p><p>“This answer your question?”</p><p>Picking up one of the cartridges, she inspects it with narrowed eyes.</p><p>“This looks like it…” She pulls out her gun and reloads. “Now I just need to see…”</p><p>She aims at the metal crate in the corner full of holes and fires. It pierces through the metal exterior with a quiet ‘tink!’ Perfect.</p><p>“Please don’t do that,” he says with a frown, and then grumbles about how everyone feels the need to do that.</p><p>She puts away the gun, muttering a sorry. She reaches for a bag slung over her back and swings it around, placing it with a heavy thump on the table.</p><p>“Check it,” she says.</p><p>For the next several minutes, he counts the bills. They’re in varying denominations, but it adds up to the amount they discussed before. He nods to her in confirmation and they talk about business for a few minutes more before she announces that she needs to leave. Best not to waste his time… or her own, for that matter.</p><p>He walks her to the door, assuring her, “Don’t worry. Your business here stays here.”</p><p>“That’s all I ask, Ban,” she responds simply, “It was nice finally meeting you.”</p><hr/><p>Hauling a bag now full of food (and ammo) instead of paper bills, the elder sister quietly slides into her room at the motel. As expected, the room is slightly messy and the worksheets she set aside for her sister are abandoned in favour of the TV. Setting down the bag on the floor, she calls to her sister with a hand on her cocked hip.</p><p>“Sissy!”</p><p>The kid runs forward with full force and tackles her. The obscuring clothing from their travels is on the tiny tot, just like the elder has instructed her to do during the day in case anyone tries to enter their room while she’s gone. The hood falls down when she tackles her older sister, revealing a smooth green head with a smile, dimples, and glittering blue eyes.</p><p>“Sissy! You’a home!”</p><p>The older sister smiles sappily and rubs her little bald head. That smile is what she lives for. She feels bad about being so demanding with the worksheets and everything. But in absence of any parentage or schooling, it’s important that someone steps into the role of teacher and maintains it. Practical learning like reading, writing, maths… and martial arts, they’re all important skills in life.</p><p>“Let’s eat dinner. Then we’ll go over your worksheets before dessert,” the elder explains to the younger as she bends over to pick up the bag of food on the floor.</p><p>A little less enthusiastic response greets her, but based on the fact that the kid still runs off to the table near the foot of the bed, some of the worksheets got done at least.</p><p>“Go wash your hands,” she instructs.</p><p>The kid runs off and clambers up onto the sink with more grace than is natural for her age. The elder lays out the food before taking her turn washing her hands. When they both come back, they sit down and eat.</p><p>Enjoying the chow mein, the elder sister flicks the TV onto some random cartoon about a ship in space with a captain that slaps the crap out of his ensign… Weird. Must be a retro cartoon night or something.</p><p>After the food is finished, the sisters both carry their takeout containers and other garbage to the trash bin.</p><p>“Okay. Now, I got cake for dessert, but I wanna see your worksheets first.”</p><p>The young turtle shuffles anxiously to the bed where a few papers are scattered. She grabs them with a tight fist, causing them to crumple. Slowly, she makes her way to her older sister, who waits patiently by the table.</p><p>“Show me your maths first.”</p><p>Seeing the kid hesitate, the teen smiles, “It’s alright, I won’t be mad, Mei-mei.”</p><p>At the use of her older sister’s nickname for her, the turtle relaxes and slides the paper over to the teen to review.</p><p>It turns out Mei did a quarter of the questions before stopping. To be fair, some of the questions were at a level higher than what is expected from a kid her age, but the elder sister based the worksheet off of what she knew her baby sister’s former tutors would be giving her.</p><p>Their parents were demanding, that’s for sure. The teen doesn’t quite believe that pushing a kid that young that far is right, but she wants to gauge her sister’s actual level with these particular worksheets.</p><p>“It’s okay that you didn’t finish them, but we’ll still have to go over <em>all your worksheets</em> before you can have cake.”</p><p>“Okay…”</p><p>And they do just that. Maths go by slower than the other worksheets. Science is a short one, but most of the questions have to be explained as she got them wrong. Mei breezes through the remaining English and Japanese questions. The elder sister congratulates her with cake at the end of it all.</p><hr/><p>The next few days go a little similarly, with Mei slowly getting used to completing her worksheets—correct or not—before the elder sister returns home. On the older one’s part, the search for better accomodations and contacts is a hard one. Most people are older than her, work for her parents, and/or a different clan. Meeting teens her own age is out of the question, considering most of them go to school.</p><p>She’s stressed and feeling isolated when the next weekend comes around. She knows she’s not the only one, either.</p><p>The only release the teen finds is on the days she practices martial arts with her sister. On those days she returns early and they climb to the rooftops. They do katas fully disguised until night falls, where they shed extra clothing and do more heavy workouts. They also do ‘light sparring’, named such because of the young turtle’s age. When they’ve exhausted themselves, the elder sister brings out some food and they eat under the light of the stars.</p><p>Despite everything going on in their lives, those moments are precious to her.</p><hr/><p>Sissy’s late.</p><p>The young turtle has the chair pushed against the window so she can climb it and stare at the street outside, looking for the silhouette of her older sister under the orange light of the streetlamps.</p><p>Sissy’s never late.</p><p>Her older sister has always been timely, even on the days she comes home early. Strict, but patient and kind—not like Mei’s demanding tutors, and somehow <em>so different</em> from the turtle’s five years experience of their parents. Sissy likes routine, even though she changes it up to stay safe. If Sissy thinks she’s going to be late, she always tells Mei. Always.</p><p>Something’s wrong.</p><p>Her turtley senses are tingling. Something’s dearly wrong, and her sister’s part of it somehow.</p><p>Warring thoughts make her hesitate as she edges to the door. Memories of her sister strictly ordering her to stay in the motel surface, as well as the times she had disobeyed and got scolded.</p><p>But her older sister—despite the isolation, loneliness, and strict routines—is <em>everything</em> to her.</p><p>Her gloved hand slowly unlocks the door and starts turning the knob, as if someone will hear her. She knows she will get scolded, but the threat of not ever seeing her sister again is much scarier.</p><hr/><p>Blood drips onto the ground quietly as she hunkers down behind a dumpster. She applies pressure to the wound in her side and tries to stay still as loud, goading voices approach the alleyway she’s hiding in.</p><p>She would rather die.</p><p>But she can’t. She thinks of her baby sister waiting impatiently for her older sister to come back, to provide her with food, security, and someone to talk to. She thinks desperately for a way out, but this alley is a dead end, and she doesn’t think she has the strength to boost herself from the wall to the fire escape a few metres up.</p><p>It was supposed to be an easy job. She has done it millions of times before. Go in, get the thing, and then bring it back. Retrieval jobs have dangers, but it’s nothing she hasn’t been trained to handle.</p><p>She hadn’t anticipated the gun immediately trained on her as she tried stealithily approaching through the throng of people in the club. A gunshot sounded amidst the loud music and it was chaos. If she survives this, she’ll have bruises from the elbows and feet that knocked into her.</p><p><em>Shit,</em> she thinks with watery eyes. <em>Why me.</em></p><p>They knew she was coming. They had to. She can only imagine how—it could’ve been anyone she met over the last few days. It could’ve been the one who gave her the job in the first place, but that would cast suspicion on Ban, who had introduced her. She wants to think that he wouldn’t intentionally sell her out.</p><p>“Hey, I think she’s here!”</p><p>“There’s blood!”</p><p>A light flashes into the alley, illuminating the dumpster. She holds her breath, eyes wide.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Saving a Life</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Blood warning?</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>She may be young, but like her sister and mama, she has an uncanny intuition and ability to read between the lines. She knows she’s not normal—well, obviously she’s a turtle—and that’s why she has to hide. She doesn’t understand <em>why</em> it’s bad to be a turtle. Turtles have hard shells that protect them from the world, and she can hold her breath for a long time! She’s like the superheroes in her TV shows! Anyway, she <em>knows</em> she’s not normal and that it’s dangerous somehow, despite what her sister says.</p><p>She may not know why, but that’s okay. She trusts her sister, and if her sister tells her that she can’t let anyone see that she’s a turtle, she will do it with all the stealth and regard that a five year old can muster.</p><p>She tugs on her hood anxiously as she trots down the street. There are few places that they’ve been out together, and most of them are off the ground. She intuits that her older sister’s probably not sitting idly on the rooftops.</p><p>Her training tells her to anticipate where the target would go or what they would do in a time of crisis.</p><p>Her sister has a gun, so she will probably use that if she is threatened. But if she is able to use the gun, surely she won’t be in danger for very long? No, she thinks further, looking around. If she is truly in danger, her sister will probably be looking for places to hide.</p><p>She likes hide and seek, but all she wants now is to find her sister and go back to the motel.</p><p><em>“It’s safest in the shadow of the mountain,”</em> she remembers.</p><p>The alleyways. The shadow of the mountain—between the buildings.</p><hr/><p>Her hands are slick with blood, and she fumbles with the handle of her gun. For all her training and experiences, she’s emotional in this time of crisis. She knows what’s going to happen when—not if—they find her. No one knows she’s here, and no one’s coming to help.</p><p>The safety flicks off with a clumsy movement. She winces as she tries but fails to keep a consistent pressure on her wound with her off-hand.</p><p>“Aw, hey, pretty lady. We missed you.”</p><p>She fires at one, but misses. In that critical moment, the gun is out of her hands by a grasping hand, and more pull her kicking and screaming to the wall of the building.</p><p><em>No</em>, she thinks frantically, <em>I don’t want this.</em></p><p>But then.</p><p>Large shadows fall from above, and with a couple violent motions, the men are knocked out cold. The cellphone lighting the area falls to the ground, screen-face-down, and the light on the back illuminates the area somewhat. She sees green, but not much else.</p><p>Losing the strength to stand, her knees buckle and she falls to the ground. Her blood has stained her front noticeably, and as she leans against the wall she was once held against, she barely has the remaining cognitive function necessary to comprehend what’s going on anymore.</p><p>All her thoughts go to Mei.</p><p>In her blurring vision, she sees a green silhouette lean forward and touch her face gently. One green blur talks to another in low tones.</p><p>“My sister,” she slurs, “The New Yank City… Inn, room fi…ve.”</p><p>“You’re going to be alright,” she hears.</p><p>“No,” she says, realizing they don’t understand but not able to muster a coherent sentence, “my baby sister… needs…”</p><p>Her sweater, barely hanging from her shoulders after the rough grabbing earlier, flaps noisily as it slides down her shoulders and onto the ground. A large black wing loosely opens as her consciousness goes.</p><p>“Oh,” says someone.</p><p>Then all goes dark.</p><hr/><p>“Sis?”</p><p>From the mouth of the alley comes the unsure voice of a five year old as they check every alley near the hotel. It doesn’t occur to the turtle tot that they’re putting their self in greater danger by calling out.</p><p>“Sis?”</p><p>Empty, empty, empty.</p><p>“Sissy?”</p><p>Blood. Lots of it. A spotlight of some sort pointing to the sky dimly lights the surrounding area.</p><p>“Si—”</p><p>Her sister’s gun. She would recognize that anywhere.</p><p>She shakily walks forward, grabbing the gun with unsteady hands. It’s slicked in someone’s blood, and ends up slipping out of her gloved hands. She takes off her gloves and grabs it with greater dexterity. The blood trickles over her little green fingers, and her eyes widen as her intuition tells her—no. No. No, no, no.</p><hr/><p>A high pitched shriek echoes from the ground further back. Four teenage turtles pause in their trek from rooftop to rooftop.</p><p>“What was that?” The purple-banded turtle asks.</p><p>The blue-banded one holding the unconscious human on his back makes a snap decision.</p><p>With a grim face, he turns to them and says, “Raph, Mikey, why don’t you two check out what that was? Don, you and I will bring the human to the lair for medical attention.”</p><p>“Dude, what about what she said? The New Yank Inn, room five?”</p><p>“Mikey, we can check that out once we’re sure she’s not going to die first,” blue leader reasons.</p><p>“And we can’t just dump her at a hospital, oh fearless leader? What do you think Splinter is going to say once he sees we’ve brought <em>another</em> damn human to the lair,” the red-banded one grumps.</p><p>“We don’t have time for this. You can blame it on me, just go.”</p><p>“Fine.”</p><p>“Fine.”</p><p>They split into pairs and run in opposite directions.</p><hr/><p>“Sis! No, Sis!”</p><p>Her vision blurs as she remembers the last thing her big sister said to her. She had kissed her head and told her to be good, that she’d be back before she knew it.</p><p>
  <em>She lied.</em>
</p><p>There’s a vision of an older time, back in the dojo sequestered deep in their home’s lower levels, where their mother and father taught Mei about death. Their mother ordered her to suddenly kill a hamster Mei was caring for. When all was done, Mei was sad, but she hadn’t understood the sheer weight of death then.</p><p>She understands now.</p><p>Her sister is dead, and she’s so very alone.</p><hr/><p>“It’s a kid,” the red-banded grump murmurs to his companion.</p><p>The orange-banded one anxiously rambles, “Or a midget. Betting on kid, tho.”</p><p>“They’re holding—is that a <em>gun?</em>”</p><p><em>“Sis!”</em> They hear the anguished cry clearly.</p><p>There’s a moment of silence, and they both feel great sympathy, for this kid and whoever it was that they lost. Nothing can compare to the feeling of losing someone close to you. Despite their young age, they obviously cared about their sister a lot.</p><p>“What should we do?”</p><p>“Didn’t the lady mention a sister? The kid also mentions an older sister.”</p><p>They share a significant glance, both coming to a conclusion.</p><hr/><p>“Leonardo, Donatello, you’re home,” a tall, refined figure resembling a rat greets them. Then he notices the passenger on his son’s back.</p><p>“What is the meaning of this?” He demands.</p><p>“Master Splinter, she needs medical attention—she’s a mutant. We—I couldn’t bring her to the hospital,” Leonardo, the leader, states his reason with urgency.</p><p>The father reigns in his natural response to his sons’ disobedience, taking a closer look at the one on the blue-banded leader’s back. His expression turns grim.</p><p>“Donatello, can we use your lab?” Splinter asks the purple-banded turtle.</p><p>“Of course,” he replies, and they quicken their pace to the lab.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Under a Mountain</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This chapter wasn't quite finished. Also, this story is on hiatus until I get more inspiration :(</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Waking up is a slow process, and she’s still groggy as she tries to straighten out her thoughts.</p><p>Though her eyes are closed, she can tell it’s dark and cold. Breathing deeply but quietly through her nose, the scent of the air is stale and kind of damp. She’s probably underground or inside a building with no windows.</p><p>But that’s impossible. Isn’t she dead? Wasn’t she <em>dying?</em> She shifts slightly, just enough to bring life back into her limbs. With that small shift, a sharp aching feeling radiates outward from her side. She stills again.</p><p><em>What happened</em> to me, she wonders.</p><p><em>I remember those bastards finding me</em>, she remembers with a pang of fear. The fear turns to confusion as she remembers what happened after…</p><p>Green. But that doesn’t make sense. Someone came to her rescue, and they were green? Were they wearing green? She can’t remember clearly what the green was. The memories are fuzzy after she collapsed.</p><p>She concludes that the green—that <em>someone</em> must have brought her here. She tenses, causing the ache from her side to flare up. Wanting to hiss but not willing to give away that she’s awake, she bites her tongue.</p><p>
  <em>Ow.</em>
</p><p>A plan. She needs to plan how she’s going to get out of this place. Her sister needs her.</p><p>She can hear the muffled sounds of activity, likely from behind a wall, but nothing else in her immediate vicinity. Either someone’s being really quiet, or she’s alone in this room. Well, there’s one way to find out.</p><p>Opening her eyes, she looks around while marking entrances and possible weapons. Then she takes stock of herself. Her movements are sluggish, her mind is lagging, and there’s a weakness there that speaks of blood loss and pain. So, not so bad, considering what she’s been through.</p><p>There’s a garage door separating this room from the room with activity. Her surroundings are full of scrap metals, a computer, and various DIY tools. A workshop, she determines. As for herself, she’s wearing only a robe—she really doesn’t want to think about the fact that a stranger disrobed her—and her wound has been dressed in tight bandages. The blood has soaked through a bit, but it’s obvious that the bandages have been changed recently.</p><p>Pulling the robe tightly over herself, she contemplates taking one of these tools as a weapon to defend herself with. The knife and gun she usually keeps on her are gone, and she feels naked without a weapon. Then again, if the people who treated her wound are genuinely nice people who took care of her, perhaps she doesn’t need to.</p><p>Her training tells her otherwise.</p><p><em>Then again</em>, she thinks, stopping herself from grabbing the short knife in front of her, <em>maybe I can find where they took my weapons. </em>If<em> they took my weapons,</em> she corrects herself.</p><p>Nodding silently to herself, she turns away from the various tools and heads to the door… the noisy-looking metal garage door. Crap. <em>So much for stealth, huh?</em></p><p>It starts opening.</p><p>Panicking a little, she jumps back and turns her body parallel to the door—her uninjured side facing the door—wincing at the sharp pain in her side. She breathes deeply and widens her stance, raising her arms to cover her vital areas. As the door rises, the people on both sides realize some crucial things as they each take in the bottom half of the other.</p><p>She’s awake.</p><p>He’s green.</p><p>No, not like “he’s wearing green,” so much as “he’s green daba-dee daba-die.” He has fucking green skin and three fingers. She breathes deeply through her nose, focusing on calming herself. Actually, he kind of reminds her of someone…</p><p>“Sissy?”</p><p>Her heart stops. Before the garage door can fully reveal the “green”, a smaller green body pokes out from behind the stranger. Before the teen can blink, the small body collides with her, forcing her to drop her stance and kneel to properly embrace her little sister. Her eyes start to water before she can control herself.</p><p>“Mei,” she cries wobbily, “Mei-mei.”</p><p>She realizes in the back of her mind that people are staring. Her training made sure she would never be unaware of her surroundings, not fully ignorant anyway. She just doesn’t care. Instead of worrying, she hugs the heck out of the small turtle girl and lays a sweet peck on her little green head.</p><p>“I was so worried. Are you okay? Did anyone hurt you? Who do I need to beat up?” She peppers the younger with questions, protectively screening her away from the strangers standing near the doorway by using herself as a shield.</p><p>“’M fine. The tortles found me. They helped you and gave me pizza and you wouldn’t wake up. I shook you, but the tortles told me not to do that and now you’re awake,” the younger rambles, burrowing her face into the elder’s shoulder.</p><p>The teen simply rubs her sister’s back—shell, rather—and reassures her.</p><p>“Well, I’m fine. The turtles must have done a pretty bang-up job.”</p><p>The younger flinches and hugs her tighter.</p><p>Furrowing her brow at this response, the elder slowly stands and stubbornly—despite the radiating pain—hefts the small turtle onto her hip as she carefully turns her attention to the large gathering near the door.</p><p><em>What an odd collection of persons</em>, is her first thought, and it comes with a complete bewilderment at the situation she finds herself in. There’s a tall, regal-looking rat-man standing behind a set of four turtle teenagers that look a lot like Mei. The turtle teens look alike, but they each have their differences of course. The easiest way to tell them apart is by the cloth band around their heads. The cloth bands go over their eyes with holes so they can see, like a colourful portrayal of the ninja shown in American media. Blue, red, purple, and orange.</p><p>She thought her own situation with her sister was bizarre, but this took it to another level.</p><p>“I suppose I have… thanks to give for taking care of me and my sister for… however long I was out for,” she phrases deliberately, with an unsure glance across the assembled strangers.</p><p>The strangers glance at each other, and the robed rat takes charge, placing a hand on one of the turtles’ shoulders as he walks past the turtles a bit.</p><p>“My name is Splinter, and these are my sons,” he says, and points his open hand as he introduces each of the turtles.</p><p>“Leonardo,”</p><p>The blue-banded turtle stands straight and bows slightly at the waist toward her and her sister.</p><p>Since she’s holding Mei, the teen girl merely bows her head in response. The younger sister mimics her older sister and attempts to bow, nearly unseating herself from her older sister’s hip. There’s a smattering of laughter at this.</p><p>“Raphael,”</p><p>The gruff-looking turtle unsheaths his Sai’s and gives them fancy twirls before replacing them. Mei gapes comically at him, to which the older sister turns her head to hide her smile. Glancing back at the red-banded turtle, he seems almost secretly satisfied.</p><p>“Donatello,”</p><p>The purple-banded turtle is the one she recognizes from the opening garage door. Donatello just waves at them.</p><p>“You were lucky the bullet missed any vital organs. You have bad bruising and your side needed stitches after we removed the bullet. I’d like to take a look at the stitches later if that’s alright.”</p><p>Rei quietly blinks, realizing that this turtle may have had a great hand in her recovery. She gives him a grateful smile.</p><p>“Donatello, is it? Thank you for your care.”</p><p>“Tank you!” Mei exclaims.</p><p>“Ah, it’s no- no problem,” he stutters with a smile.</p><p>The orange-banded turtle bounces forward before their father can say his name.</p><p>“… And, last but not least, Michelangelo.”</p><p>The brightly smiling, orange-banded turtle whips his nunchaku and does some tricks. Mei claps her hands excitably at this, and the older sister smiles slightly as she bounces her sister contently.</p><p>“Check on the rep, second to none, yep!”</p><p>“It’s nice to meet all of you. Thank you for taking care of us. My name is Rei, and this is my baby sister Mei. We are sisters from a… clan up north.”</p><p>There were polite murmurs of ‘nice to meet you’.</p><p>“Please, can you tell me what happened?” Rei asks with worry in her eyes.</p><p>Splinter nods his head, asking, “What do you remember?”</p><p>“I was shot. I remember being chased. I hid in an alley, but I was too weak to make it to the fire escape to flee by the rooftops. They had just found me when… well, I only remember the colour green, but I guess that’s when your sons appeared.”</p><p>“When you passed out from your injuries, my sons Leonardo and Donatello brought you here, assuming it would not be wise to bring you to the hospital,” the father explains, “Michelangelo and Raphael came later with your sister.”</p><p>“The kid was apparently wandering the streets, and found the alley you were at,” Raphael explains, crossing his arms.</p><p>Rei’s eyes are wide in shock as she imagines her sister’s reaction.</p><p>“Oh, Mei-mei… I told you to stay inside the motel.”</p><p>Mei begins to look distressed. The other turtles shift uncomfortably while the sisters talk.</p><p>“You say you be back soon. You say you be a’right. You say- you lied.”</p><p>“There’s always going to be an element of danger in my jobs, Mei. I say it’s going to be fine if the job isn’t <strong>as</strong> dangerous, but there’s <strong>always</strong> danger waiting for people like us.”</p><p>That catches everyone’s attention, especially Splinter, who narrows his eyes in suspicion.</p><p>Rei rubs her sister’s cheek with a solemnity and empathy in her eyes.</p><p>“I didn’t mean to lie to you, Mei. I’m sorry. Forgive me?”</p><p>The baby turtle looks resistant, but eventually concedes, “Okay… I forgif you.”</p><p>“Thank you, Mei. Also, it’s ‘forgive’.”</p><p>“Forgif.”</p><p>“Forgive.”</p><p>“Forgif.”</p><p>“… Forget it.”</p><hr/><p>They’re sitting in the ‘main’ hangar/room later, having decided to get more comfortable for the rest of the conversation. Splinter excuses himself, saying he’ll be back soon before heading in an unknown direction. This leaves the sisters alone with the turtles.</p><p>“The kid was holding a gun. She says it’s yours,” Raphael states with arms crossed and a look in his eyes.</p><p>“It is. I’m missing that and a knife. I assume Splinter has them?”</p><p>“<strong>Master </strong>Splinter took them, yea,” the red-banded turtle reluctantly confirms, then interrogates, “What job is so dangerous you need to be armed?”</p><p>“Raph,” Leo whispers with a sharp elbow to the red’s carapace.</p><p>Raphael doesn’t budge, awaiting the older sister’s answer.</p><p>Despite the suspicion cast on her, she understands. She’s a stranger in their home, and she is well acquainted with violence. There is also the realization that she and her baby sister pose a risk to the underground ninjas’ secretive lifestyle. Baby sister or not, Rei is not surprised at the resistance to her being here.</p><p>“I don’t blame you for being suspicious. I’ll explain more, but I would prefer to tell this only once,” she says, “Can we wait until your master comes back?”</p><p>“You better tell the truth. We’ll know if you’re lying.”</p><p>“-Not that we’re suspecting you of anything bad, but,” Leo jumps in to ease the perceived tension.</p><p>Rei shakes her head gently, “No, your brother is right to question an—well, formerly—armed stranger in their home. Mei and I are in a complicated situation however.”</p>
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